


Silver linings are an irrefutable proof of clouds

by NOTgingerninja



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clintasha - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, depression induced fic, shedloads of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 17:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NOTgingerninja/pseuds/NOTgingerninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wouldn't leave yet. She'd sit there for a few more moments and watch him as he slept, the epitome of peace and grace, quite unlike his usual unkempt, clumsy meandering through whatever task presented itself to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver linings are an irrefutable proof of clouds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ella1673](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ella1673/gifts).



> This is a little piece of fluff that practically wrote itself, I mean seriously this pairing is adorable. I'm gifting it to the fabulous Ella (ella1673) , the indisputable queen of angst :)

She wouldn't leave yet. She'd sit there for a few more moments and watch him as he slept, the epitome of peace and grace, quite unlike his usual unkempt, clumsy meandering through whatever task presented itself to him. He stirred briefly and she leapt noiselessly to her feet; watching him for a few tense moments. The moments passed, and she stayed absolutely still, poised. Finally his breathing became slower and more regular, and she relaxed. If he'd woken up he would have entreated her to stay and she couldn't, not now. It was far far better that she left the way she had come; silently and with no indication of why. Less pain for everyone. 

But yet... She had difficulty drawing her eyes from his sleeping form; there was something about him that she found incredibly compelling but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. No matter how much she wanted to stay with him, to be enveloped in his strong arms and relax into the soft heaven of his embrace, she knew she had to draw a curtain over their time together. It was time to move on. 

She’d moved on so many times before, one would have expected her to be immune to any pain caused by leaving. She herself was convinced that not a person alive had the power to connect to her, that nobody could ever make her stay, ever make her feel. And up until now that theory had not been challenged. But this one man had thrown her usually so calm and collected mind into complete turmoil. The moment her eyes had met his, she had felt something, something she had never felt before and something she could not put a name to. She had spent so long denying herself any human pleasure, ensuring her mind was always focussed entirely on the task in hand, but spending time with him had felt easy and safe, as easy as breathing. 

A single word came from the bed. Her name, soft as the beating of a butterfly’s wing. 

“Natasha.” 

She froze, tension coursing through her limbs, her every muscle poised. She turned and looked at him, clothes bundled in her fist; the early morning sun coursing over her body giving her an almost divine appearance. 

“Stay.” 

He whispered it, as if afraid to ask. She turned her back, and piled the clothes from the previous night into her bag. She was afraid to look at him, afraid of the emotions her eyes would betray, she didn’t want him to see how much that one solitary word had meant to her; what one softly spoken word had caused her to think. 

Love. That was what she had felt when she had looked at him last night, and again earlier that morning. Love. She sighed, put down her bag, and returned to the bed, heart singing with newfound joy.


End file.
